


The Saviour's Second Date

by Dysphorite



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Awkward Dates, Boats and Ships, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Magic, Plans, Restaurants, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4391315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dysphorite/pseuds/Dysphorite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, it had been Killian's turn to ask Emma on a date, which meant that it was Emma's turn to plan it. But Emma doesn't know the first thing of how to plan a date -despite what she told him- much less in a small town like Storybrooke.<br/>Every boyfriend she'd ever had died before she had the chance to plan a date. Her longest relationship being with Neal, and the closest she'd got to planning a date then was robbing a convenience store together. Which just wasn't an option.<br/>So, what is she going to do now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So guys, I'm trying something a little new to me. I'm really not good at keeping stories short so this is new territory to me, but I'm going to try. The chapter's will be -hopefully- few and not too long. No rambling, I promise.

“Dammit” she muttered under her breath.

She was sat, leaned back into her chair at the table centring the apartment. Staring intensely at the mug of hot cocoa in front of her. In her mental abstraction, she hadn't noticed the thick, chocolate liquid begin to bubble and glow.

“Careful” said a voice coming from behind her, “Stare at it too hard and we might just have a dancing mug on our hands”

Mary Margaret walked past the table where Emma sat, flashing her an impish grin as she sauntered to the fridge in search of her morning orange juice.

“Ha ha, very funny” Emma retorted in a flat, unamused tone thick with sarcasm. Feeling that her Mother's jest would have been funnier if it hadn't actually been true. Emma probably _could_ give the mug legs, if she tried.

“Whatever the problem is” Mary Margaret began, pouring herself a glass of the juice, “You're not going to find the answer at the bottom of melted cream and cinnamon”

She cast a telling glance at Emma's mug once more. She was right, the cream _was_ melting. Emma had been too distracted to notice.

It had all been a joke, banter between them, harmless teasing at the time. But now, the problem was very real. Emma scowled at her drink, thinking she needed something far stronger. Something that wasn't given to children who wouldn't go to sleep. When Killian had said, in earnest, that it was his turn to ask her on a date. Their second date. She hadn't taken the implication so seriously. Now, as the fated day of the date rose with the lazy morning Sun. The intent was very, startlingly real.

It was Killian's turn to _ask_ for the date.

Which meant that it was Emma's turn to plan it.

And while she had protested defensively and told Killian -insulted- that she knew how to plan a date.... that wasn't exactly true. Unless the date involved robbing a convenience store or knocking out a flying monkey. What with her fugitive, romance-on-the-run with Neal and the 8 month relationship with a man-monkey, she hadn't exactly got the chance for refining her date-planning skills. But give her a sword and a dragon to slay any day.

And, unfortunately, there is no course in date-planning. Or a spell to summon the perfect date with a pirate.

Emma half sighed, half groaned, dropping her head back to rest on her neck in frustration. Now fully slumped uncomfortably in the wooden chair, arms crossed and staring up uninspired at the ceiling. She angled her head to look awkwardly over to where Mary Margaret now stood, looking on at Emma in confused bemusement.

“Hey” Emma said, her voice coming out strangled and strained sounding as a result of her current position, “Where would you take a one handed pirate on a date?”

She considered it.

“To the hospital?” Mary Margaret replied, feigning innocence and guilelessness.

“Mom. Seriously?” Emma whined in replied. She threw her folded arms to slump onto the table before her, her head following close behind.

“Sorry” Mary Margaret manoeuvred around the kitchen counter and over to the table to sit beside Emma, an awkward grimace contorting her rosy lips, “This is about your date today, with Hook” she asked, now serious. Emma lifted her head and groaned.

“Yes”

She racked her brain for ideas. Something. _Anything...._

Nope. Still nothing.

“Eugh. Please tell me a green psychowitch or a deluded Snow Queen just enacted some kind of curse and put me out of my misery” Emma pleaded.

“You haven't done this before” Mary Margaret said knowingly.

“Can you blame me? My longest relationships were with Neal, where a date meant some kind of burglary, and Walsh. The flying monkey.”

Her Mother just looked at Emma with an expression Emma couldn't read. She was just glad to have the chance to help her daughter with something so base. So innocent.

“How do you usually do it?” Emma asked.

“Well...” Mary Margaret tipped her head to one side as she thought about it, the question catching her off guard. Her and David haven't been on many dates per say, but, “Whenever I've planned anything for David, I always thought about his particular hobbies, interests, favourites places and foods, and the like..” her voice trailed off, seeing a familiar glint in Emma's eyes.

“That's it” she exclaimed, slamming her hand onto the table, almost spilling her drink with the force it shook as she rose to her feet, “The Sea. I'll do something with the Sea!”

At that, Emma grabbed her coast hastily and rushed to the door in her usual 'Emma' way after she had just hit some kind of revelation. Her hot cocoa left forgotten on the table, cold and abandoned.

Mary Margaret smiled proudly, shaking her head and sipping at her juice as she retrieved the untouched mug of cocoa and returned it to the sink.

 


	2. Chapter 2

When her feet finally touched the cool gravel of the pavement outside the apartment building, the morning had worn on. The Sun was high aloft in the sky and a chill was in the air, biting at her cheeks flushed with the cold. She could see her breath in clouds of translucent smoke before her that evaporate into the atmosphere as she half jogged in the direction of the docks. As she did, she fumbled for her phone wedged in the small pockets of her jeans, in order to check the time.

12:30

Emma hoped she wasn't too late. She stuffed her phone back into her pocket and set her sight to the sea. Determined to make it. So determined that she didn't see David walking towards her, in the opposite direction back to the apartment with a bag of pastries in one hand and a drink in the other. She almost ran into him, but luckily, stopped just short.

“Woah! Woah” David cried, one of his usual amused, lop-sided grins spreading his face, “What's the rush, Emma? Are we under attack again? Who is it this time, a vengeful queen? A green witch?” he looked about, pretending to scout for a threat.

Emma just leaned her arms on her knees, huffing in strained breaths. Her jog had quickly, without her knowledge, turned into a race. She was tired from having ran the distance from the apartment to here full speed, without stopping. But before she could make to answer, her father's expression turned from mockery to thinly veiled suspicion and defence, mixed slightly still with amusement, “Or... is it the famous, one handed pirate?” he jerks an eyebrow at her.

Emma wondered whether her parents' had taken funny pills this morning without telling her. She gave a father a look of warning before explaining herself.

“I have a date with Killian later, yes” she glared at him, “And I was just on my way to make some arrangements”

“Cutting it a little close, aren't we?” he began to grin again.

“Don't start!”

Emma turned on her heel from him and returned to her pursuit of the docks. She could her her father's bellowing laughter echo in the wake of her steps and just before she ran out of ear-shot, she heard him call,

“Have fun!” then, as if a second thought, “But not too much fun!”

David really needed to cut the over-protective father act. Emma rolled her eyes, hastening her pace for the sea once more, this time determined not to let any one -or any thing- distract her. She checked the time again.

12:50

There would still be reservations open, wouldn't there?

 

* * *

 

 It was one o'clock by the time she made it to the docks and found the place, nestled in a corner of the docks. Slowing her run to a walk, she turned off the corner towards the entrance, muttering to herself.  _“Should've just taken the bug”_ she cursed under her breath. But she had made it, eventually, and hopefully in time. She found the short one Killian called Smee at the plank-walk, set into the middle of the ship and into the interior. She furrowed her brow in confusion.

“New job?” she asked as she reached him.

He wasn't in uniform yet, so his habitual red beanie still donned his head and he held an old broom in his hand, preparing for opening.

“Yes, ma'am” he replied, pausing to look up at her then resuming his sweeping of the entrance.

Emma made a face of surprised appraisal, thinking it strange that Killian didn't mind his first mate taking on a second job, then set to the task at hand.

“You take bookings here?” Emma inquired hopefully.

“Aye”

“You still got some free?”

“Aye, you're in luck ma'am” he smiled at her, setting down his broom and walking further into the ship and to the host podium. 

"Emma's fine" she muttered, following him to warmly decorated interior.

“When is it for, Emma?” Smee asked. He looks up at her, waiting for an answer.

“Tonight, seven”

His gaze fixed back to the sheet in front of him, pencilling the booking in.

“How many?” he asks, not looking up.

“Two”

At her answer Smee looks up, an impish grin pulling at his lips as he puts two and two together and realised the intention behind the booking.

“A date, is it to be, Emma? With our favourite captain?”

Emma gave him an exasperated look, completely fed up with people in general today, wondering how it was that everybody knew her business. What she that obvious?

“Yes” she sighed, closing her eyes in exasperation. A gleeful grin took over Smee's face and he began to giggle -actually giggle- as he wrote.

“Aye. Well if it's for Captain, I could do something special for you?”

Emma eyed him suspiciously, gauging his intent, “You would do that?” she said, doubt lacing her voice.

“Aye, happy to help”

Deciding she had nothing to lose and Smee would have some idea of what Killian would like aboard a ship. 

“Okay, what would Killian like best? I would prefer the table to be somewhere more secluded and by a window looking out onto the ocean, how does that sound?” she raised her eyebrows at him.

“Good ma'am, leave the rest to me. You just turn up, at seven”

Warily deciding to trust him, she left. Setting her direction to Grannies to get herself a drink, realising she never actually had one, before it was time to prepare for the date.


	3. Chapter 3

Hours later, after spending some time with Henry at Grannies, finally getting her drink, Emma found herself presented with yet another conundrum date-wise. Something that she had seen as inconsequential and not worth worrying about. Which is how she ended up now staring in perplexity at her wardrobe, clueless as what to wear.

 _"Of all things"_ she thought to herself as her eyes scanned her clothing back and forth, _"_ _Clothes, really?"_

She backed up a few inches until the backs of her legs found her bed and then she slumped back onto it in defeat, shoulders sagging, her eyes never moving from the wardrobe. She hadn't given the matter previous thought, her mind being filled with the problem of the actual _date._  Not her outfit. It was the last thing on her mind and -she had thought- not something to worry about. Now, however, she made a mental note not to overlook the issue on future dates.

_Future dates..._

Emma's heart began to beat furiously inside her chest, as if urging her feet to follow its pace and run, run far away and never look back. She felt the familiar tug, the familiar urge to flee at the first sign of commitment. Emma knew she would be free, safe from the heartbreak and grief that has followed in her wake for her entire life. She knew how easy it would be to run. She knew how easy it to fade from memory. She know how easily life can end.

“ _I'm a survivor, Swan”_

Killian's voice murmured through her erratic brain, thrumming through her body. Her entire being felt its promise and tenderness. Through her veins she could feel him coursing, surging through to her heart. Slowly, he had been working his way through to her, showing up everywhere she went, showing her he was there, surviving, heart beating, risking everything _for_ _her_. Slowly, he etched his way into her life, her mind and her heart. And now, he had built a home in her, settling in the deep corners of her mind and rested for the stay, immovable, for eternity. She knew the risk. She knew the consequences. There was no turning back, no running. Not anymore. He was with her now, permanent, unmoving, s _urviving._

Ran away with her thoughts and mind eased from their resolution, Emma smiled serenely to herself, lost in the image of her pirate dancing behind her eyelids. She truly couldn't wait to see him...

_See him_

“ _THE DATE!”_ Emma's eyes snapped open and she all but jumped from her perch on the bed. Her head frantically span for the clock on the wall. How long had she been daydreaming for?

The clock read 6:25. Killian would be here in less than an hour!

She shook her head free from the last spells of daydreams and began to throw clothes unrestrained from the wardrobe. Dresses, jackets, skirts flew from hangers until the room was practically raining clothes.  _This was getting her nowhere._ With a sigh of resignation, Emma turned to her last resort. She dug out her phone from where it sat under piles of discarded clothes and, finding the number, hit call.

The phone rang for what felt like hours until she finally picked up.

“Regina. Emergency. My place, now” she spoke through the phone not giving Regina the chance to speak, urgency ringing through her voice as she inwardly begged for her to show up. She didn't waste time with further explanations, knowing that if she knew exactly what Emma's _emergency_ was, Regina wouldn't show up. Emma knew that she probably thought we were under attack from some curse, but allowed the implication, if it would get her here. She needed help right now, and preferably not from her mother. Regina's the only one she could turn to.

 

After a couple seconds Emma spent pacing up and down her room, over piles of crumpled clothes, she felt the familiar woosh of magic tingle through her body and then heard a startled shout echo from downstairs.

“Swan!? Swan!?” Regina yelled from the living room, searching for the unmistakable head of long blonde hair through the empty rooms of the apartment, _“Emma!?”_

“I'm up here!” Emma shouted from her bedroom, before hearing the sharp sound of heels running at full speed up the stairs, and then she was there, standing dishevelled with a pensive expression written on her face, looking on expectantly at her.

“ _Well?”_ Regina pressed, her gaze moving to scope the room and look in confusement at the piles of clothes scattering the floor and bed, “What's the emergency? Other than the dire state of this room. Seriously Swan, I know you've been busy, but take some time out to tidy before we have the wicked witch of the mess on our hands”

“That. _This_ , is the emergency” Emma replied hesitantly.

“You brought me here to clean?” Regina's brow raised and her eyes bore into Emma, clearly wondering if she heard her right.

“Not exactly” Emma looked down in guilt, forecasting Regina's reaction, “Killian's coming to pick me up for our date soon and... I don't know what to wear...”

“You called me. Told me it was emergency. To get me to pick out your outfit!?” Emma winced at Regina's rising tone of disbelief and anger, “I thought I made my thoughts on the subject pretty clear before”

“Please, please” Emma rushed to spit out before Regina left, seeing that her hands were raised as if to summon the magic to leave in the very next moment, “I need help and... you're the only person who can help me”

Regina lifted an eyebrow but dropped her hands.

“ _Please”_ Emma begged, one last time.

Regina rolled her eyes and grunted in resignation.

“ _Fine_ Swan. This once! But this does _not_ make us friends”

Emma smirked knowingly at Regina as she began to sift through the mounds of discarded dresses and shirts, making faces of disgust at Emma's taste in fashion and the occasional snarky comment of whether Emma stole the item in question from the wardrobe of an ogre. 

But she knew she didn't have to time to laugh or even take offence at Regina's comments. 

Killian would arrive in now less than 45 minutes, her time is running out fast.

 


	4. Chapter 4

It was time. The clock struck the hour of the date just minutes after Emma had finally finished getting ready. In the end, she had chosen to wear a deep rouge, velvet dress -which Regina eventually picked out, deeming it 'the only decent item' in her wardrobe- with quarter-length sleeves, it clung to her like a second skin so that Emma kept wriggling awkwardly every now and again. Her make-up was done up with perfect, grey smoky eye shadow and eye liner to bring out her eyes and her lips a dark cherry, so that she teased Regina for using her 'Evil Queen' look on her, to which Regina just gave her a pointed look of warning. In an attempt to do something different with her hair, she had it pulled back the long, soft blonde curls in a slightly messy French plait with wisps of golden strands hugging her alabaster neck and crowning her head. All in all, she was dressed to stun. And it certainly had that effect when she walked over to open the door, her heels clip-clopping on the wooden flooring, and opened to to receive a speechless Killian Jones, who stood there stunned, a rouge blush which matched Emma's dress filling his cheeks. Emma smiled proudly at her effect on him, satisfaction swelling her teasing grin. Only amplifying her effect on the man. When he finally did manage to articulate some form of greeting, his speech was stammered and faintly husky.

“Wow, Swan... you look- you look...stunning. Absolutely stunning” he stuttered, his eyes still glazed over with the daze of her effect.

“Quite literally, it seems” Emma replies, her voice low with poorly contained amusement as she moved her hand to grab at his habitual leather jacket and pull him gently further into the apartment. Killian's dazed look then turned into a familiar, devilish smirk. 

“Well, clearly Swan you're not the only sporting a stunning apparel” he said in his usual, husky tone of arrogant presumption, Emma could hear the smirk in his voice and by the lone jerked eyebrow, could tell that he was about to come out with some kind of sexual remark, “You can't keep your hands off me”

“Easy now, pirate” she said, returning his smirk and placing both hands flat on his chest, softly pushing him back -albeit reluctantly- as he circled his arms around her, hand and hook meeting at the back of her waist, the cold metal of the hook cooling her lower back through the fabric of her dress. Clashing with the burning heat that was spreading through her body at his touch, warming her cheeks, “We've got the whole night ahead of us yet” her voice was low and husky, mirroring his own, but laced with satisfaction. It was a voice Killian was learning to recognise as Emma's teasing tone of desire, and he knows she does it deliberately but can never bring himself to be angry with her for it. Generally, barely restrained frustration won out.

“Ah now, Love. Just what would that entail? Because a pirate needs to be wooed, as is his due”

“Well... you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?”

Emma smirked and lifted an eyebrow with pleasure as she teasingly brought her lips close to his own so that they were just brushing, enticing him, only to lower her hands to his one and draw away from him, playfully tugging him along with her when she saw Killian's eyelids lower with desire. Emma felt satisfaction tug at the corner of her lips once more when she looked back to him once she had reached the door, grabbing her shoulder-bag. To see his jaw muscles tense with frustration as his reluctantly followed her out of the door, closing it with his hook behind them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapter's so short guys, but I just couldn't bring myself to add to it yet. Once I had finished the chapter I just loved the way it already was ^_^


	5. Chapter 5

Killian wouldn't keep his hand off her as she lead him teasingly towards to harbour, opting to walk in order to prolong the mystery, and his suffering. But also because the night was calm with a clear, starlight sky creating the perfect romantic ambiance. Emma flashed a look filled with hope at the stars, asking them for luck. Whilst Killian, lumbering at her side slightly behind her, couldn't keep his eyes from Emma herself, thinking no star could compare with his Swan. Each time he took in her scarlet dress and done-up hair, he was taken back to the ball they had graced together. A night where they had truly connected under the glimmering chandelier as he took her hand and lead her into her first waltz. The way their bodies touched as they moved together as one, her, a sight to behold in her red silk gown that rustled as they swayed together. Their eyes met and she finally trusted him that night, dancing under the candle light. Killian's thoughts strayed back to the hand that was leading him now towards a glowing ship in the distance and he thought of how she turned him into a romantic fool in love, and smiled.

“Just where are we, Love?” Killian asks as she ship comes into view.

Emma stops and turns to face him, palms pressing on his chest.

“Your surprise” she taunts, angling her head so that he can see beyond to the ship's sign, though his gaze never moves from her, “This is where we're eating tonight. It's a new place, just opened. A ship _and_ a restaurant. I thought it suited your tastes” Emma teasingly reaching her lips up to his, never touching.

“I fear you might be right, Swan” he muses, voice soft and husky as he brushes his palm over her cheek, caressing her soft skin and felt a burning blush rush over her cheeks. She caught his gaze, eyes locking, and he couldn't resist any longer. He closed the aching gap between them and touched his lips to hers. Fire instantly ignited, sparks flying between them. And the primarily gentle, innocent kiss transformed into a smouldering exchange of lips and tongues. Fighting, sparring together like the meeting of swords in a battle for control.

Killian could have happily stayed occupied this way for the rest of the evening, but knew that Emma had taken time to prepare and plan for the entire night, so reluctantly pulled back from the fiery, fierce kiss, pleased to see Emma's pupils dilated under heavy lips and quite breathless when she looked up to him. She smiled giddily at him and he smiled back as his gaze moved to behold the site of the date beyond them, for the first time beholding the restaurant's name, written in swirling font on the side of the ship.

“The Pegasus” he muttered, voice catching with emotion.

Emma just now made the connection.

“Oh, Killian I'm so sorry. I completely forget about it” she apologised profusely, “Are you going to be okay? We can go somewhere else”

“No, no Love. I'm fine. I was just taken back for a moment there” he replied, mind moving back to the present, away from memories of his brother, Liam, and their last voyage together “Lead the way”

“Are you sure?” Emma asked, her hand rubbing softly at his cheek.

“Aye, Swan”

Emma kissed him again, the smouldering flame igniting once more, but moved back before they could get lost in other again -realising they were slightly late- smiling at him and turning to lead the way into the restaurant.

Killian's eyes hooded with desire, he followed his Swan towards the glowing entrance to the ship, thoroughly hooked on her in love.

 

* * *

 

Inside it was warm and glowing with the light of multiple lanterns in the old-fashioned décor of the restaurant, and the soft tones of a piano floated through the air and into the couple's ears as Emma approached the host, a certain first mate who had forgone his usual red cap and brushed up with a suit.

“We have reservations for two” Emma said as they reached him.

“Of course, my lady” he bowed and Emma was shocked at the formality, “Sir” he turned and bowed again at Killian, who was looking half confused, half amused at his first mate. All suited up and formal, “If you would follow me?” Smee gestured to the right.

Emma nodded and Smee began to lead them down a wood panelled hall to the right, turning to the left at the end of the corridor until he reached a short set of stairs leading right again. He turned and opened the door, stepping in and holding it open for the couple to follow in. Emma tried not to look surprised at the beauty of the room where they had been lead. It was a private room, cosy and square, wood panelled like the hall with decoration in deep tones of rouge and blue decking the walls in hangings and pieces of art related to sailing and the sea. A bookcase sat nestled in the left corner of the room and a snug, Persian rug covered the wooden floor. On the left a large window with the casements hanging open, veiled by a soft sheen of translucent curtains that blew gracefully in the breeze, looking out onto the sea water, glistening in the star light. Seated before the window was a small wooden table set for two with a vase of roses and a candle placed delicately in the centre. The room swayed slightly with the roving ocean, the sound of the waves drifting up and through the window. It was perfect.

Emma looked to see Killian gazing, mouth wide, at the scene. Before catching her eyes and smiling. He caught her hand in his and lead her to the table, pulling out her chair for her to sit before seating himself opposite her. Ever the gentleman. Whilst Killian wasn't looking, Emma flashed a grateful smile at Smee, who had followed them at a distance, looking on in pride, before, once they were seated, moving to stand between them at the head of the table.

“Good evening, I will be your personal host and server tonight. Your wine will be brought to you shortly, I hope you enjoy your evening” Smee told the two politely, relishing their astonished expressions, nodded to them and exited the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

“You've certainly impressed me Swan” Killian said earnestly, locking her hand in his over the table top, “This place is bloody amazing”

“Well, I know a pirate needs to be _wooed_ , as is his _due_ ” she teased, rubbing her thumb over his hand and flashing him a jesting look that soon turned loving, “And this place just called out to me, it's _perfect_ for you”

“Aye, that it is Swan”

“To be honest, you had me worried for a second there. I thought I had ruined the evening by being as stupid to not check the place's name”

“Swan, I've told you this” he squeezed her hand reassuringly, “You don't need to worry about me”

Emma smiled tenderly back, her eyes filled with love, when Smee returned with their wine and an ice bucket. Opening it, he poured Killian a small quarter in order from him to taste it. He brought it seductively to his lips and sipped a taste.

“Hmm, my favourite” he smiled at her, “You certainly _do_ know how to woo a pirate Swan”

“Hmm” she replied smiling, knowing this was something Smee had done for her, not risking a thankful glance this time but making a mental note to tip well. Smee filled their glasses with wine, place the bottle in the bucket on a small, side table he had pulled out and then left again, vowing to return anon with menus.

Emma sipped at her wine, Killian's hand in her grasp, and smiled thankfully up at the stars. Finally thinking this evening would end well.

 


	6. Chapter 6

The date was progressing smoothly and the couple happier than ever, talking and joking all through their first course and into into the main, with a merry Smee looking on in delight as he delivered each meal. The date was perfect, and Emma couldn't believe her luck. The setting, the food even the weather all perfectly contributed to the night, and the peaceful lull of the waves beyond the window were music to Killian's ears as grew more and more in love with the woman sitting opposite him, illuminated by candlelight. The mood was bordering on seductive by the time for dessert.

“Now Swan” he said, leaning back with one arm resting on the table, eyebrow arched, “What have you got in mind for dessert?”

“Wouldn't you like to know, pirate?” she retorted.

“Perhaps I would” he leant forwards, voice lowering to husky and eyes dancing provocatively over her “For I have something very particular in mind that I want”

Emma arched an eyebrow in response and was thinking up some witty retort when the ship veered suddenly to the left, the gentle lull of the waves turning to strong crashes against the side of the ship. Emma and Killian grasped quickly to the sides of the table to keep their balance, reaching it just in time to prevent the fall of the wineglasses. The ship somewhat levelled out again and Emma gave a once over to the table to check that everything was intact, before meeting Killian's curious and slightly worried gaze.

“What the bloody hell was that?” he asked, voice rising.

“I have no idea” Emma answered truthfully, “Probably just a sudden wave” she brushed the matter off but knew by the unsteady swaying of the ship and the increasingly heavy crashing of the waves that reached her attuned ears that something was definitely not right. But no way was she going to let anything ruin this date, she thought up a plan and cast a deliberately confused glance to the door, “Where _is_ Smee with our desserts?” she said, artfully rising her voice with curiosity before smiling serenely at Killian and rising from her chair, “I'll go see what's keeping him” Emma walked over to where Killian sat looking on at her, turning her smile seductive. “You, pirate, will wait here til I return and maybe...” she brushed her mouth against his ear, leaning provocatively in to him and lowering her voice to a husky whisper, “I'll see to that dessert you wanted” Emma felt his hot gaze linger on her as she strutted from the room, dropping the act as soon as the door closed behind her. She flicked her head left and right, then began to storm down the hallway they came from in search of Smee, the desserts be damned. She found him hovering nervously, all of a jitter, in the entrance to the place where the side door from which they had entered was now shut tight.

“Hey, Smee” she shouted, “What the hell is going on out here? Why is the ship moving?” she demanded, arms in the air, looking expectantly down at him for his answer. Smee wrung his hands worriedly, looking about as if someone was about to burst in with a gun.

“I- I don't know Ma'am” he answered, his nerves affecting his voice, “I was just getting y'r dessert ready an' all in the kitchens when the ship swayed somethin' dreadful and I heard this awful crash. I didn't know what was going on. I came out here and the place was almost empty. I mean, the place was already near empty, it being new and all, but something wasn't right” Smee's accent came out strong in his fear, clearly perturbed by these strange happenings.

“I thought we were docked, Smee. Why is the ship moving? Who's captaining it?”

“We don't have no captain, it's a restaurant”

The unexplainable events, that were interrupting her date terrifically, left Emma's dumbfounded. Her forehead was furrowed in confusion, trying the connect the strange events. Smee had said that there was no captain to the ship, presumably the only people aboard were the staff and a few scattered guests, including herself and Killian, so what could have caused these strange events? It wasn't the weather, Emma cast a checking glance to the nearby window, for outside it was still fine. But it couldn't be doubted that the ship was being moved, manned by someone. Just as Emma thought this, the ship lurched once more, knocking Emma to the side, and a cacophonous crash could be heard from above. Someone was up there.

“Smee” Emma turned to him, fully alert now, all thoughts of romance fleeing from her mind, “Where're the stairs to the deck?”

Smee pointed to a doorway to the right of the host's podium, set into the wood panelled walls. With a brief nod to Smee, Emma ran to the door and hauled it opened, taking the stairs two at a time as she ran upwards and into the night. Wholly unexpected what was now before her.

The night was silent, the stars still shining languidly in the dark sky with the glowing Moon beside. The sound of the crashing waves were louder here and the air chilly, if there was ever any doubt that the ship was moving in Emma's mind still, it all now fled. For as she turned her head towards the harbour, she saw that they were already far from the reach of the docks. Confused and alarmed, Emma's breath caught as she turned back around towards the captain's helm, prepared and ready for anything. At the wheel, steering the ship southward was a tall, heavily built man in full pirate get-up, much like Killian's previous apparel, with a blood red long coat and a wide belt cinching it at the waist. He was a scruffy looking man, but clearly dangerous. He had weaponry decking his clothing, along with a sharpened sword shining in the light at his belt. And to top it all of, a pointed black pirate's hat sat atop his head of matted black hair that blended into a unkempt beard. The man was clearly not from this realm. He smiled, teeth glinting dangerously in the moonlight, at the sight of Emma, who suppressed a shiver of disgust under the weight of his gaze.

“Now then” the man said confidently, “You must be this saviour I've been hearing so much about”

And then he smiled again, and Emma was horridly reminded of the delighted scowl of a feral cat, ready and willing to pounce, and sink its razor sharp teeth into the flesh of its unwitting prey.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As you probably predicted, here comes the inevitable interruption of Emma's date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've got a couple chapters lined up (Sorry, I didn't realise I had written so much, it's ended up being a bit long and I haven't even written the epilogue yet) which I will be posting over the next couple days. Sorry about the wait guys but I ended up, when I finally came to write the next chapter, writing three chapters worth instead of just one. So I split it up into three, hope you enjoy ^_^  
> Dysphorite

Emma thought quickly, seeing that the only way out of this was to take control back of the ship. Despite his haughty arrogance, she could tell he was new to Storybrooke. Who else would've stolen a ship that's a restaurant rather than an actual ship? And everyone knows that you can't just happily sail out of Storybrooke, not without the minor set back of not being able to ever return. So just what did he think he was doing? Ignorant or not, the man was rubbing Emma up the wrong way and she was already on a short fuse. He had already crashed her date, which was going perfectly, and didn't realise the egg shells on which he was treading. Her blood was boiling, rumbling within her like a volcano threatening to erupt with every step he took, every word he spoke, every time his eyes raked her. His very presence was infuriating. She had only just saved Storybrooke, again, and now she had to save her date? Though she knew that simply unleashing her anger and storming him wasn't the solution, however much her leg longed to aim a solid kick right in the man's groin and wipe that smirk off his face. No, what she needed right now was to keep him distracted. And that, she could do, if she could manage to keep her temper in check for long enough to do just that.

“So you've heard of me?” Emma said in a teasing tone, though her anger lacing it with bitter sarcasm.

The man laughed. “The name's come up. You're something of a celebrity in this town and I like to know my enemies before I see them” the man had he sword drawn and ready, pointed towards Emma, thinking the sight would scare her.

“Then you should know that I have magic, and I'm not afraid to use it” Emma began to edge backwards, mirroring the man's movements but never once turning from him so that they were dancing a circle around the ship, so that Emma was getting him right where she wanted.

“If you could, you would have by now” he said in a matter of fact, “And as you see, I have control of this vessel, it's mine. So now, you're at my mercy. If you ever want to see your beloved Storybrooke again”

He was bluffing, Emma knew that, but it didn't stop his words from stoking the raging fire of anger in Emma's stomach. It was building and building and soon Emma's magic would be out of control if she wasn't careful. It had been revved up all day, but Emma had just found a perfect outlet.

“From what I can see, you're all alone _Captain_. So how do you suppose you keep control of this ship without any back up”

“Well I have a sword and you don't”

“I have magic and you don't”

“Magic that's not under your control” he sneered at her and Emma wondered just how he knew so much about her, he angled his sword in her direction again, waving it about nonchalantly as he spoke. But while he wasn't paying attention Emma was edging closer and closer to the helm as he moved further away from it, so she decided to let him believe her magic was by no means under control, while it suited her so well “But come now, there's no reason we can't be... friends”

“Sorry, I don't make friends with pirates” Emma challenged in return, anger flaring in her eyes and seething in her voice. The face of a certain pirate who was probably still wondering where she was floated into her mind. Surely he would have gone looking for her by now?

“Ooh fire!” he taunted, eyes delighting in her anger, “Feisty one aren't you? What's got you so... fired up?”

“Other than that I'm stuck on a ship with a dirty pirate?” she jeered, “Because you crashed my date” she was almost in reach of the helm now, while he was still unaware, and Emma's control wouldn't hold much longer. Her wrath at breaking point, her hands were practically glowing and the edges of strands of her hair were almost spitting fire, coming loose from its top knot. She wondered that he couldn't see how dangerous she was at this point in time, but he was clearly too busy revelling in her anger.

“Aww, how sweet” he mocked in a flat tone, “The saviour on a date. Now tell me, who's the lucky guy?”

Emma's eyes flashed dangerously at him as he waved his sword at her again, his wicked smile taunting her. They were now face to face, diagonally across from eachother on the middle of the ship. Her at the corner stepping closer and closer to the helm, and he looking expectantly at her, eyes filled with malice adjacent to the the stairwell, back facing the fading harbour of Storybrooke. The tension between the two was tangible, their eyes locked in an unspoken challenge, spitting fire, threatening to explode any second as they each played the game, waiting for the other to make the first move, to cross the line. The evening's calm had disintegrated and the gentle lulling of the waves in the background building into angry crashes of water onto the side of the ship, splaying vapour of water into the heavy night air. And for a moment neither said anything, staring, daring the other to make the first move. Challenge danced in Emma's eyes as she waited, biding her time. She knew she had the upper hand. She could blast him into the sea with a thought and she remained steps away from the point of his sword. She had the advantage, she had the control, he couldn't even tell. He thought she was weak, vulnerable, ruled by emotions. Not even able to control the one thing that could save her. He thought he had the upper hand, he thought he could win. He didn't know just how wrong he was. And all she needed was the right distraction.

As the two continued to stare each other down, sparks flying between them, the unmistakable thud of feet running on wooden stairs, taking two at a time echoed into the silence, merging into the sound of the sea crashing and the groan and clang of the ship sailing. And suddenly another body burst onto the deck of the ship, with familiar ebony and eyes that matched the sea that darkened his expression as he beheld the pirate who's sword was flashing threateningly under the moonlight, razor sharp point angled at the woman he loves.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

“Blackbeard” Killian's jaw was clenched making his words an angry hiss as the muscles flexed dangerously, his expression dark and disturbed. His usual glint of humour in his eyes changing into a look of ire and hatred.

“Hook” Blackbeards stance faltered for a split second as he took in the unexpected turn og events, his gaze moving from Emma to Killian.

And that was all Emma needed.

Glowing white flames burst from her hands levelled at Blackbeard and suddenly he was knocked feet backwards, shot straight into the ship's hard wooden side with a force to leave him breathless and winded, and with a mild concussion. While Blackbeard was knocked off of his feet, helpless on the floor, Emma sprung into action. Leaping from where she stood to the helm in a matter of seconds. As soon as she felt the cool, smooth wood of the wheel beneath her hands she spun it 360 degrees. The ship swayed precariously to the right, the tip of the ship's side almost touching the water's surface as it turned back to face the harbour of Storybrooke. In the veering of the ship Emma clung to the wheel to keep from toppling over while Killian -being used to the wayward veering of a ship on stormy seas- managed to maintain his balance by shifting his weight forward at the last minute. Blackbeard -being motionless on the deck- had no such luck, when the ship leaned and swung, he went with it. His heavy body was dragged along the floor with the ship's momentum, helpless to get up. When the ship began to level out once more, Killian raced to join Emma at the helm, shouting over the loud crashing of the waves and creaking of the ship.

“What happened? What's that bloody demon doing here, Swan?” He asked, dumbfounded the the events he just witnessed.

“How should I know? I didn't even know he was Blackbeard until you showed up! What's he doing in Storybrooke?” Emma shouted back.

“I don't bloody know! I think I would remember crossing paths with my bloody nemesis Swan! Did he come over in the last curse?”

“Can't we discuss this later? We have a crazy pirate on our hands here!”

“Hey!”

“Seriously? That's what you took from that?”

 

While Emma and Killian were catching up, Blackbeard was slowly rising to his feet. Bleary from the force of the fall but otherwise intact. He shook the sensation off and cracked his neck before turning around to glare at Killian. He took two prowling strides towards him, bending over to collect his sword from where the ship's swaying had taken it, and then he was upon him. Emma saw him first whilst Killian's back was turned, he arms still busy manning the helm she had no means to use her magic in time, only time to cry out.

“KILLIAN!”

Seeing the alarm in Emma's eyes and following her gaze, Killian swerved and ducked just as Blackbeard's sword swiped the air clean above him and suddenly they were in combat. And Killian had no sword. He ducked and dodged and swerved and jumped, each time narrowly avoiding the cold sharp sting of the blade's edge. Emma stared on, dumbstruck from the helm. Unable to move, to do anything but watch as Killian danced a dangerous battle with the devil. And then a thought struck her. She tied up the wheel hastily to maintain their course, then bounded to the ships side and leapt up so she was balanced on the edge with one hand clinging to the rigging. A tug and and a pull and Emma was flying across the deck, propelled by the rope, hanging on as glided. A split second and her legs kicked out, finding contact right on the side of Blackbeard's head. A swift thump and a heavy clatter he was down and Emma jumped and landed lithly on her feet where Blackbeard had just stood in front of Killian. She grabbed his sword from where it had fallen from his grip and jabbed it threateningly at his nose so Blackbeard could only look on helplessly as he was kept down, beaten by his own sword.

“Look's like the tables have turned _Captain_ ” Emma said, looking down, eyes squinting in anger at Blackbeard. He mouth sneered but no sound ensued. He was captured, entirely at the saviour's mercy, and there was nothing he could do about it.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Killian looked on in amazement at Emma, wonder holding him captive as his mind replayed her actions. In the struggle, Emma's hair had flown free, flowing in shining blonde strands, spitting sparks in her anger behind her as she flew over to him like an avenging angel come to earth to save him, knocked Blackbeard to the ground and used his own sword to keep him there. Killian was ensnared by wonderment, amazed by the woman. Suddenly his limbs were able to move again and before he knew it he was propelled forward, grabbing Emma's hips and hauling her lips to his in a ravaging, cataclysmic kiss. A battle of another kind ensued. One of heat and fire and passion. Killian crushed Emma's lips with his, tongue delving in deeper, pushing harder. Demanding more. Fire raged between them, each fighting for relief in the other's lips. Pulling, grasping, taking, trapped in each other’s embrace. Emma's hands locked in Killian's soft locks of black hair, provocatively tugging at the roots as her fingers clenched in desire. Killian's hand caressing her waist, urging her closer to him still until her body was crushed against his, the cool metal his hook scalding her burning skin at its icy touch through the thick velvet of her dress. Their minds no longer theirs. All they knew were the flames, the passion, the love that the other gave and freely took. They were lost, trapped in a never ending exchange of desire and fire that at the the touch of their skin ignited and sparked between them, moulding them together as one. At last, Emma all but wrenched her lips from his reluctantly, her forehead coming to rest on his. Breathing rugged and heavy, Killian leant his forehead on Emma's almost more for the support than affection; his eyes were hooded as he looked up into her shining peridot eyes, bright with desire and hooded in a similar way that his were.

“Killian... what _was_ that?” Emma breathed, chest shaking from his effect on her.

“Swan... I-” he didn't know what to say but caught her lips in a quick kiss once more with all the urgency and love he was feeling. He couldn't say it, his lips couldn't form the words she didn't want to her, so he conjured all that he was feeling, all the love bursting in his heart into his kiss so she would know, so she could feel it too. And she gave it back freely, love pouring into him from her lips to his. And he knew she loved him too, she just couldn't say it yet. And that he could understand, she had told him to be patient, to wait for her. He knew she would get there, she had been hurt too many times to utter the word easily, to admit all that she was feeling at put her heart on the line. But he knew he was showing her he was worth it, there for her, a survivor who wouldn't hurt, damage or break her heart once given to him. He was proving himself, he could tell from her kiss, all they needed was time.

“Woah, easy there pirate” Emma broke from the kiss in a hushed whisper, “We have... company”

And didn't he know it, Blackbeard of all people. Killian drew backwards, jaw muscles clenching and eyes rolling in irritation of their date's fantastic interruption. But his arm still clung to her waist and her hand still rested on his shoulders reluctant to withdraw. They saw only eachother, not caring of the sordid man who was still lying on the floor.

“Ah yes, my old friend” Killian replied sarcastically. He finally removed himself from Emma's embrace and took the sword from her hand, pointing it down at Blackbeard, “And just how did you get here, _mate_?” he asked the man, who just laughed sardonically.

“I don't have to tell you anything, _Hook_. I knew you'd gone soft. On a date, with _the saviour_ of all people. And you” he moved his gaze to glare at Emma, whose loose hair began to quiver and spark again as her temper grew, “I thought you didn't make friends with _pirates_?”

“As you can see” Emma replied mockingly, leaning forward so her head was level with his, “We're not _friends_... and he's no dirty pirate. Don't put him on the same level as you _Blackbeard_.” Emma's eyebrows raised as her voice taunted him, while Killian watched worriedly from above at his Love, who was -in his opinion- much too close to the man.

“You're in no position to be questioning here” Killian butted in, using his free hook to gently draw Emma back and stand directly in front of him, “Or had you forgotten? You've lost” Killian smiled down at the man mockingly, daring him to try something. Blackbeard laughed.

“We shall see”

It happened all at once. Blackbeard sprung to his feet, drawing a hidden sword from his person at batting away the sword that Killian still had pointed at him. And suddenly they were in combat again, though this time. It was a fair fight. Emma leapt back in alarm and stared as the sharp metal clashed and scraped eachother, drawing back and meeting again in flashes of silver. The sound of the melee rung through the night as the two pirates danced with eachother, engaged in a hostile combat, a final showdown of the captains that had fought for centuries. But it was an even battle. Emma watched as Blackbeard advanced, gaining advantage over Killian as much to make her heart stop and fear to break into her bones, only to see that suddenly Killian came back, gaining footing again. Fighting to the death. It went this way for what felt like hours. Blackbeard winning, Killian winning. Back and forth and back and forth that Emma's emotions were haywire and she didn't know what to expect. This could go on forever, as they moved around the ship as one, swords still colliding and crashing as they did. Emma could barely stand it.

“Come on Hook!” Blackbeard shouted jeeringly as their swords met for a moment and the were face to face, “Let's finish this!” Killian drew his sword back with a ringing scrape and engaged him again in the clashing of swords.

“You're never going to beat me Blackbeard” Killian replied with a snarl, “We've danced this merry dance many times before and you know how it always ends. With me, winning”

“I wouldn't be so sure of yourself Hook. You know as well as I that you only won by the hair of your neck. You wouldn't be so lucky this time. This time you have something to lose. Your _precious saviour_ ” Blackbeard mocked in a snivelling, sneering tone, “Oh think of how heartbroken she'll be, when my sword finally splits your heart in two and she's left all alone, with no one to comfort her. Only _me”_

If Blackbeard thought his taunting would distract Killian, he was wrong. His taunts only enraged him, bringing more force and strength in his strides, in his swing. Blackbeard barely avoiding the sting as Killian's sword swiped cleanly across his neck, drawing a thin, shallow line of blood. This stopped them for a second, Blackbeard touched a hand to his neck, drawing it back to see the blood staining it while Killian, crouched in a battle ready stance, smiled darkly on at him. And with a primitive roar Blackbeard charged at Killian again. But Emma could watch no longer, Killian flashed her a telling glance and she knew what to do.

“Emma, NOW!” he shouted.

And with her hair rising up around her like a siren with the force of her magic, an aura a pure, silver surrounding her, Emma raised her hands and thrust them towards Blackbeard. In a rush of white light and the cracking sound of a whip, Blackbeard was engulfed by course, heavy rope. Trapping him, squeezing him tightly and he toppled to the ground, unable to move. His sword clattered on the wood, the sound ringing through the air as it dropped from Blackbeards slackened grip. Emma flew over to Killian and he caught her with a surprised thump.

“Killian. God, are you okay? Are you hurt? What-” words streamed from her mouth senselessly, shocking Killian anew. He had never seen her like this, didn't think it was possible. Her eyes were wide with worry and her skin was a deadly pale.

“Swan. Swan. _Swan!_ Stop, Love” Killian caught her hands with an amused expression, “I'm fine. I told you, we make quite the team” he cast a glance over at the ensnared Blackbeard, struggling against the against the restraints, “Though I think you may have been a bit... overly enthusiastic with the ropes. Can he even breath in there?” he questioned absent-mindedly, but his words word lost on Emma, her heart beating wildly as her eyes moved frantically over Killian, checking for any kind of injury. Once she was certain there was none, her breathing began to settle and a hint of anger returned.

“How DARE you worry me like that!” she thumped Killian on the chest ad received a feigned look of hurt in return.

“Calm, Swan. How many times must I tell you. I'm a survivor” he smirked at her.

“That's not funny” she lightly thumped Killian's chest again, looking down at her hands as they came to rest there, Killian's covering them, “Now what are we going to do about the pirate over there?” she asked, gaze meeting Killian's.

“Oh, I don't know. We'll take him back to shore and shove him in once of your cells, _sheriff._ Hmm?” he moved his hand to catch at the back of Emma's waist, pulling her to him. “Now, what was this I heard about not making friends with pirates, Swan?” he asked, grinning as he pulled her into him.

“Hmm, I thought I told you. We're not friends” she replied daringly, voice becoming husky.

“Then just what am I to you, Swan?”

And in reply, to avoid Killian's probing question and smouldering eyes, Emma whispered, bringing her lips to teasingly brush against his, leaving his breath catching and eyes once again hooded.

“Why don't I show you...”

And with that she pulled him to her, once more engulfed by the flames and passion of desire that sparked between the two, igniting into a fire as the ship sailed onwards back to the harbour.

 


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end! Thanks for everyone's support and I hope you enjoyed reading The Saviour's Second Date, even if I did end up dragging on for longer than I thought I would ^_^ Thanks for reading!

When they had finally gotten back to the shore, after rigging up the ship and returning below deck to find a jittery Smee with the rest of the guests and staff who had -it seemed- been shoved down the hold when Blackbeard had taken control of the ship before Emma had emerged, Killian disappeared somewhere, leaving Emma waiting alone on the quiet night's beach. Where the sea was calmly lapping the shore in a once again gentle lull of crashing waves and the stars and Moon still shone brightly, illuminating the setting scene of their -undeniably ruined- second date. Emma sighed, hugging the jacket Killian had bestowed upon her closely around her, defending from the cold night's breath. She inhaled the scent of the sea infused into the fabric of his jacket, wondering if they would ever have a date that would go uninterrupted as she looked out onto the sea, with the Moon hanging benevolently above it, surrounded by scattered stars. Its beams cast glistening light onto the dark sea and Emma had to admit that the sight was beautiful, even if the date was ruined.

Finally, as Emma looked out onto the waves, a quiet calm filling her with every crash of the waves onto the sandy shore, Killian returned, now carrying a bulging bag, swinging from his arm as he walked towards her. Before she noticed his arrival, he snaked his arms around her waist, resting his head over her shoulder and joining her as she marvelled at the view of the beach under the light of the full Moon. In the distance, the howl of a wolf echoed through the night. Killian felt Emma sigh.

“Killian” she twisted her head so that her eyes almost met his where his head perched on her shoulder, “I'm sorry, about the date. It was going so well, even after my mess up with the place's name, and now it's ruined”

“Swan, that wasn't your fault. How could you have known bloody Blackbeard would show up? Look” he turned her round so that they were face to face, she avoided his gazed until he lifted his hook from her waist and caught her chin, raising her eyes to meet his, “The date was perfect. And how could I not enjoy watching you battle the man I despise, you were bloody amazing Swan! And here I was thinking you didn't pillage and plunder on the first date” he smirked at her, his eyebrows rising in amusement, turning the tone from serious to jaunty in a matter of seconds. Emma finally smiled, his heart warmed at the sight causing his grin to widen even further to dazzling.

“Shut up pirate” she teased, “Anyway, this is not our first date”

“Ah yes, now let me see. The snow monster was the first and the ice wall the second, and then there was the dinner, being the third. Which makes this, by my calculations, our fourth date, Love”

“I thought I said shut up” she smirked fondly at him and silenced his jests with a kiss, melting as their lips met under the Moonlight. She drew back to glance at the bag still hooked on Killian's arm, brows furrowing in confusion, she rest her head on Killian's as his eyes finally opened once more., “Now are you going to tell me what's in the bag? Or am I going to have to wrestle it off of you?”

“Well on any other occasion I would say you would have to wrestle. But seeing as you asked so nicely, and after seeing the number you did on old Blackbeard back there, I guess I'll have to show you”

Killian smiled devilishly and disengaged from Emma's embrace, digging a hand into the back and drawing forth a blanket. Emma watched in puzzlement as he took a couple steps back and shook out the blanket onto the sand arrange on it a candle, two empty mugs, a flask, and a chocolate fondue with marshmallows and strawberries, before setting the bag down, finally withdrawing another blanket. Coming to walk over to Emma, he politely took from her his jacket and arranged the blanket over her like a cape, snuggling her into it so she looked adorable nestled under the folds of the blanket. Killian smiled fondly at her.

“Your seat, my lady” he bowed and showed her to a perch at the back of the blanket, looking out over the sea and moved to sit beside her on her right, picking up the flask and pouring her a mug of steaming hot chocolate. He handed it to her with a smile before delving into the bag once more, this time revealing a can of whipped cream and some cinnamon. He smirked as he squirted the cream over her hot chocolate and sprinkled it with cinnamon, delighting in her smile of surprised joy then pouring himself a mug.

“Killian... how did you do all of this?” Emma asked, voice airy with surprise and bliss, inhaling the wafting sweet scent of the cinnamon and chocolate.

“Well, I returned to the ship and asked a willing Smee to whip up some hot chocolate and blankets. Turns out he already had our dessert ready so all I had to do was find some cinnamon and cream and a bag to put it all in. Being a fearsome pirate captain does have its perks”

“Killian, I don't know what to say... this is perfect” she looked around her, taking in the beautiful scene of the nights beach and the gorgeous smell of the hot chocolate and marshmallows. All of this, for her, “And it was supposed to be my turn to plan the date too...”

“Ah, don't worry about it Love. In all fairness you were doing fantastically, I was actually quite relieved when we were interrupted because I would never have been able to top that, could I?”

On any other occasion, a comment like that would have awarded a playful slap on the arm from Emma, but right now, she was too overwhelmed by the emotion she refuses to name to award any punishment, even in joke.

“What did I do to deserve you...” Emma whispered into the night. Killian looked over her, shining in the moonlight and felt love swell his chest.

“No lass, it is what did I do to deserve you” he began, eyes shining with severity, “I spent years thirsty for revenge, a hole in my heart left the death of my Milah filled with darkness that consumed me. For over three hundred years I let it control me, let the darkness rule me. I hurt, killed innocent people. I did so many vile and dark deeds that I thought my only redemption would lie in vengeance, vengeance on The Dark One. But then, though the darkness, the brilliant bright light shone through. Burning through the darkness filling my soul and casting light where I thought would only be shadows for an eternity. You saved me Swan. You took that hole in my heart, filled with darkness, and redeemed me. And now my dark heart is so filled with light and happiness, so filled with you that the only darkness now creeping is the fear of losing you. If I lost you... I don't know what I would do. If, after all that I have done, you can still love a soul like mine...” Killian broke off, struggling for the words in his head, the words he most desperately wanted to say dancing on the tip of his tongue... _I love you_. Emma's eyes shined with tears in the moonlight, her face turned up earnestly at him so that he could see his own face reflected in those beautiful green eyes, and suddenly, he found the words, “You are the best thing that's ever happened to me Emma. You are everything. And even though I did nothing to deserve you, now that I've found you, Emma... I'm never letting you go again...”

Tears finally slipped from Emma's eyes unaware as she beheld the man sitting beside her. A breeze ruffled his hair, his eyes glazed with tears of his own as he reached out as lightly brushed the tears from her cheek. Emma leant into his touch, eyes tenderly closing as she felt his hand brush her skin. Killian leant slowly and carefully forward, lips poised to touch the skin where her tears had fallen. As his breath touched the warm skin of her cheek, Emma slowly turned her head to meet his lips, catching him on an intake of breath. And their lips met, and it was unlike any other kiss they had ever shared. Slow, burning and tender with love and passion. Not an exchange of fire and desire, but a promise driven by the depth of their love for one another. A eternal promise to be together, to fight for eachother until death because life without the other, for them, would be a living death in itself. Slowly, Emma drew back from the kiss and saying nothing, looked out onto the sea, steaming mug in hand. Without a word she carefully shifted closer, to snuggle next to Killian, using her free hand to wind the blanket shrouding her shoulder around Killian also. She contently dropped her head on his shoulder, still looking up into the stars and as she did whispered the words she had run from her entire life. Lost in the breeze of the night and the shining of the stars, Killian felt the words drift silently to his ears, the words he thought were years and nights away, and whispered his in return. Gazing out into the night, silhouetted under the Moon's pale light, the two said nothing and everything as they embraced each others presence under the eternal promise of the Moon, stars and sea and the three little words lingering between them.

 


End file.
